by Jack
‘Founders!’ Tarja swore, looking around wildly. ‘Where did this come from?’
‘It’s the veil,’ Shananara said. She looked at Dirk for confirmation. ‘Isn’t it?’
The young man nodded, looking around with something more akin to curiosity than fear. ‘I expect so. But it wasn’t this thick the last time. And it didn’t linger like this.’
‘It’s similar to the cloud bank we flew through just before we crashed,’ Declan Hawkes said.
Cayal nodded in agreement. ‘Told you not to go there.’
‘You did not,’ Hawkes said, shaking his head. He turned to Dirk. ‘If we’ve been swallowed by a veil that takes us into other worlds, where are we now?’
‘I don’t know,’ Dirk said. ‘I don’t even know how many worlds there are. We could be anywhere.’
‘More to the point, how do we get back?’ Adrina asked, as it occurred to her that if they couldn’t find a way out of this fog, they may well have left their world behind forever.
‘I’m not sure if we can go back,’ Dirk said. ‘Maybe we can only go forward.’
‘We’re not actually going anywhere at the moment,’ Cayal remarked, ‘in case you haven’t noticed. It’s more like we’re being sucked in.’
‘The mist is getting thicker,’ Adrina said, wondering if the slight edge of panic in her voice was as obvious to the others as it was to her.
Damin must have noticed. He turned to her, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. ‘It’ll be fine, Adrina.’
‘And you know this from your vast experience being sucked through veils into other worlds, I suppose?’
‘Are you sure we’re in another world?’ Declan asked. The fog had thickened so much there was nothing around them but the roiling white mist. ‘This looks like we’re caught in a cloud with a floor made of cotton wool.’
‘What’s cotton wool?’ Adrina asked.
‘Who cares?’ Tarja said, reaching out to feel the fog as if it was a tangible thing. ‘How do we get out of it?’
‘You can’t.’
They all turned at the new voice. Adrina gasped as a figure resolved out of the mist ahead of them. The man was tall, dark-haired and black-eyed and dressed in dragon rider’s leathers. He was Harshini, obviously, but Adrina didn’t realise who it was until Shananara — she who was incapable of human emotions — exclaimed in surprise, ‘Brak!’
So this was the legendary Brakandaran. Interesting that he was here. Particularly as he was supposed to be dead.
‘Are we in one of the Seven Hells?’ Tarja asked, staring at Brak warily.
Brak shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if there really is a Hell, actually. This place is more like ... Limbo.’
‘What’s that?’ Dirk asked. He had no inkling what this was. No way of appreciating the devastating impact the sudden reappearance of Brak would have on the people of Adrina’s world. Tarja, in particular, was looking pale. Adrina could imagine what he was thinking, and it wouldn’t be about a minor thing like falling through a veil between worlds.
‘It’s the place we all come to await our future,’ Brak said. ‘I can’t really explain it any better than that.’
‘A future decided by this Creator of yours, I suppose,’ Declan said, looking at Brak with deep suspicion.
‘Creator?’ Brak asked, eyeing the man curiously. ‘Are you a follower of the one god, Xaphista?’
‘I thought R’shiel killed Xaphista?’ Damin said.
‘She did,’ Brak agreed with a shrug. ‘But he still has his adherents.’
‘I’ve no idea what any of you here are talking about,’ Declan said, shaking is head in confusion.
‘Where we come from,’ Cayal added, ‘we’re the gods. Immortal, actually. Tide Lords. You’ve never heard of us?’ He glanced at his companion. ‘Tide must have been out a long time here, Rodent. They’ve forgotten us again.’
‘It matters little who you are here,’ Brak told him. ‘In this place, you are not what you were, or what you might be. You simply are.’
‘Even if you’re dead?’ Damin asked pointedly, staring at Brak. His arm had tightened subconsciously around Adrina when Brak appeared and he still hadn’t let her go.
‘Am I dead?’ Brak asked.
‘You were the last time I checked,’ Tarja said, as disconcerted by Brak’s appearance as Damin.
Brak turned to Adrina. ‘I’m dead?’
‘I suppose ...’ she agreed uncomfortably. ‘But Death took you body and soul, so we always thought that meant you’d be back.’
Dirk seemed to be listening to the conversation with great interest, but like Cayal and Declan, he was unaffected by the implications of the miraculous resurrection of Brakandaran the Halfbreed. His mind was obviously on more immediate concerns. ‘Your machine crashed, you say. Does that mean you died in your world, too?’ he asked.
‘Highly unlikely, son,’ Declan said. ‘Immortal, remember?’
Dirk turned to Brak. ‘But you died in your world?’
‘Apparently.’
‘That’s excellent!’
The others looked at him askance, particularly Brak. ‘Well, I’m glad you think so.’
‘No ... I don’t mean it’s good that you died. I mean it’s good you’re here. It means we’re getting closer.’
‘Closer to what?’ Tarja asked, frowning suspiciously.
‘To the Creator.’
‘He’s a religious leader, did you say?’ Cayal asked Adrina out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Clearly, a true believer.’
Dirk heard the aside and turned on Cayal. ‘This is nothing to do with religion. This about survival. If the veil is breaking down to the point where we can interact with people from other worlds, even people long dead from their own worlds, then one of two things is happening. We’re getting closer to the Creator or things have degenerated so far we’ve all become one mixed up hodgepodge of a world that makes no sense to anybody.’
‘Let’s be optimists,’ Shananara said, ‘and assume this mist is bringing us closer to the Creator.’
‘I hate to be the harbinger of doom, Shananara,’ Brak said, ‘but I think the hodgepodge theory may be closer to the truth.’
‘How would you even know?’ Cayal asked.
‘I meet people here sometimes,’ he said with a shrug. ‘People not of my world. Some of them are as solid and real as you are ... others are more ... ephemeral. As if they’re not fully formed.’
‘What do they look like?’ Dirk asked, with the shameless curiosity of a child. The more bizarre this got, the less bothered he was by the end of all life as they knew it, now he’d been presented with an even more intriguing enigma.
Brak shrugged. ‘Faceless, transient things. They look human, and sometimes they solidify into actual people.’ He turned to study Dirk for a moment. ‘You know ... I think I’ve seen you before. A long time ago. But you were much less substantial then.’
‘I’ve been here before?’
‘Probably,’ Brak said. ‘How did you get here, anyway?’
‘Here sort of came to us,’ Cayal said, turning to Dirk, who appeared to be the only one with even a workable theory, let alone an answer for their current predicament. ‘You say you’re looking for your Creator?’
‘Not just my Creator,’ Dirk corrected. ‘I’m looking for the man who created us all.’
‘Why do you assume he’s a man?’ Adrina asked.
Dirk shrugged. ‘Well ... I don’t know. I never really thought about it. But whatever he ... or she ... might be, I think something has happened to ... him ... her ... and that if we don’t do anything to stop it, we’ll all cease to exist, along with our worlds.’
Brak seemed happy to accept the young man’s ludicrous theory more easily than anybody in Medalon had done. But then, Adrina figured he’d had time to adjust to the idea. It was still very new to the people from her reality.
‘So what do we do now?’ Adrina asked, as Damin seemed to relax enough to let her go. It was all well and good to stan
d about theorising, but their current predicament wasn’t going to be resolved by talking about it. They needed to do something concrete.
‘Follow the light,’ Brak said, pointing into the mist.
‘What light?’ Tarja asked, following the direction of Brak’s pointing finger with a puzzled expression.
‘After a while here, you start to notice the mist isn’t evenly lit,’ the Halfbreed explained. ‘And the closer you get to the light, the more ghosts you meet.’
‘Ghosts?’ Shananara asked, sounding curious, rather than afraid.
‘The beings that haven’t formed yet,’ Brak explained. ‘Or maybe they have formed and now they’re fading away. I don’t know. I just know there are more of them the closer you get to the light. At least there used to be.’
‘Used to be?’ Dirk asked, looking around, probably for the lightest part of the mist. Although Brak was pointing in one direction, Adrina couldn’t really pick the difference. It all looked disconcertingly similar to her. ’
‘Lately it’s been flaring and then dimming for a while each day ... if you can call the time here days.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘It’s kind of hard to explain.’
‘I don’t understand what you mean by flaring,’ Declan said, looking confused. ‘How can it —’
His words were cut off by a loud buzzing noise, which was followed almost immediately by a flash of bright light so intense, so terrifying, it sundered the mist and Adrina felt herself falling into an abyss that seemed to go on forever.
* * * *
Chapter VII
When Adrina finally became aware of her surroundings again, she was on her hands and knees. The ground was squelchy and soft beneath her fingers, the light green and filtered through a thick canopy of vegetation that afforded no hint of blue sky.
She had no idea where the swamp had come from. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She had certainly never experienced anything like this in person. Gone was the white mist, the deep penetrating cold of Limbo.
And everyone else. She was alone.
‘Damin!’
Adrina waited for a response, but in her gut she knew she was alone. She had fallen through the veil — maybe they all had — and landed ... somewhere.
She had no idea where this new world was, nor who inhabited it.
The princess was certain of only one thing. She was alone and the only way out of here was back through the veil.
If she could find it.
The world surrounding Adrina was nothing but greenery and the chirruping of a million unseen insects. Her skirts were soaked by the muddy ground. The muggy air tasted so moist and loamy she feared she was in danger of drowning with the intake of every breath.
A splash behind Adrina made her spin around in fright. ‘Damin? Is that you?’
She knew it wasn’t, just as she decided calling out like that was probably a stupid thing to do. This new world could be full of danger. And even if, like Dirk Provin, she couldn’t die on a world other than her own, she could be hurt. The agonised scream Provin let out when she’d run him through readily attested to that.
Adrina pushed herself to her feet as the insects fell ominously silent.
She heard the soft splash again and this time wisely said nothing. There was something about the splash that alarmed her. It wasn’t the sound of someone tramping through water looking for dry land — assuming there was such a thing in this place. It was the soft splash of something trying to conceal its presence. The furtive splash of a hunter looking for prey.
The sound seemed to be coming from her right. That left Adrina only one direction in which to run.
Picking up her skirts, Adrina turned and headed away from the water as fast as her bulk and the thick vegetation would allow, wondering how slow and lumbering a creature she could outrun. The ground sucked at her feet, as if deliberately trying to hold her back, but she pushed on, not sure if she was imagining the sound of someone crashing thought the jungle behind her, or if her fear was really starting to get the better of her.
There was also the problem of the direction she was running.
Suppose I’m getting further and further away from the veil, instead of running toward it?
Another crash in the undergrowth behind her, this one much closer than the last, spurred Adrina on, the decision about the direction she was running taken from her by whatever large scaly thing was pursing her. Adrina didn’t know if it was actually something large and scaly. It might be large and hairy. Whatever it was, it was large and it was definitely getting closer, close enough now that she could hear it grunting.
The crashing behind her grew louder. Adrina could no longer hear herself think over the sound of her own laboured breathing and the heavy panting of whatever was running her down, and probably planning to make a meal of her.
The child bounced uncomfortably in her womb as she stumbled ahead, objecting to the rough ride. Adrina grunted and stumbled in response to a particularly savage kick, just in time to discover her fears about the type of creature pursuing her were well founded. She fearfully glanced over her shoulder as the monster burst through the trees behind her.
It was huge, much taller than a man, reeking of rotting vegetation, dripping with green pond scum and — as she had suspected — covered in mottled brown scales. She screamed as it opened its mouth wide, its massive teeth ready to tear her head from her shoulders ...
... when the buzzing noise started up again, followed by another flash of intense light and once again, Adrina felt herself falling into the abyss.
* * * *
Chapter VIII
When she came to this time, Adrina was relieved to find an unpolished wooden floor beneath her hands rather than a squelchy smelly swamp. The floor was splintered and dusty and badly in need of cleaning. She looked around. She was in a storeroom of some kind, cluttered with the abandoned detritus of what appeared to be several lifetimes.
How she’d fallen through a mist and landed here remained a mystery. Even where ‘here’ might be was not clear. And she was still alone. Damin, Tarja, Shananara, Dirk Provin, Brak, and the two self-proclaimed immortal Tide Lords, Declan Hawkes and Cayal Lakesh, were gone.
‘Is anybody here!’ Adrina climbed to her feet with some difficulty. Her call faded into the haunted shadows of the attic, where even the dust motes seemed content to hide.
‘Anybody?’
Adrina looked around, wondering where the door might be. A shaft of sunlight filtering down from a small circular window high above the rafters provided the only light. She couldn’t see an exit immediately, but she wasn’t worried.
I mean ... who builds a room without a door?
‘I don’t think any of the rooms here have doors.’
Adrina squealed and spun around to face the girl who’d answered her unspoken question.
And whom she was absolutely positive wasn’t standing behind her a moment ago.
‘Gods! Where did you come from?’ she gasped, stumbling backward, recognising the newcomer immediately. It was R’shiel — the Demon Child herself — dressed the way Adrina had last seen her, in those distracting, skin-tight dragon-rider’s leathers.
‘I could ask you the same thing.’ R’shiel smiled, as she reached out to help Adrina up. ‘Her Serene Highness, Adrina, High Princess of Hythria, isn’t it?’ she said and then glanced at Adrina’s swollen belly and gasped, ‘Founders! You poor thing, you’re still pregnant!’ R’shiel sniffed the air and frowned. ‘And you smell awful. What’s that on your skirt?’
Adrina glanced down at her protruding belly and swamp-stained skirts, then sighed. ‘Yes ... well, I’m afraid the baby is out of my control, and the gunk ... well, that’s a souvenir of an encounter with something large and scaly who thought I was lunch. How did you get here?’
‘I’m not sure,’ R’shiel said with a shrug. She was taller than Adrina remembered and prettier too. ‘I went looking for Brak ...’
‘It would be too much to
hope you found the Creator, instead?’ she asked. That would solve most of Adrina’s problems, right there. ‘Who?’
‘The Creator. It’s what Dirk Provin calls the ... being, I suppose ... who created all of us.’ She laughed — albeit a little hysterically. ‘When you appeared out of thin air, for a moment there, I thought it was you!’
The girl frowned as she glanced around the dusty attic, and seemed much older for it. ‘Who is Dirk Provin? Founders, for that matter,’ R’shiel said, suddenly turning back to Adrina, ‘how can you be here talking to me?’
‘We came through the veil.’